176: Chapter 135

Before the morning mist of Wanyao Immortal City had fully dispersed, Chen Xuan was already standing beside an inconspicuous small flying boat at the edge of the spaceport.

He had not told anyone.

The lights were still on in Liu Lili's courtyard, the door to Senior Sister Wen Yao's Immortal Cave was still shut, and Master Liu Yun was likely meditating in the back hall of the Conquest Hall.

He checked his pack one last time: three City Wall Earth Golden Essence fragments, twelve imagery manifestations, the old iron token given by Master Liu Yun, and enough Spirit Stones and Medicinal Pills to last half a year.

As the flying boat ascended, he stood by the railing, watching Wanyao Immortal City grow smaller and smaller in the morning mist. The protective formation's spiritual light, like a copper coin soaked in mist, flickered once in the grey-white sky before vanishing.

He did not tell anyone where he was going.

He wanted the truth, but this action was very likely to cost him his life.

The flying boat flew north for seven days.

As they passed through the northern section of the Ten Thousand Demon Mountain Range, the landscape below began to change. The grey-brown hills were gradually replaced by blue-grey rock strata, the trees became more numerous, and traces of Spirit Beast activity could occasionally be seen in the mountains.

Further north, the concentration of Spiritual Qi was slowly rising.

He took out a jade talisman for detecting Spiritual Qi and held it in his palm, watching the scale climb bit by bit from Third Grade Low Grade to Third Grade High Grade, and then cross that boundary he had never seen before—Fourth Grade.

He had arrived in the Central Plains.

He landed in a small town on the outskirts of the Liuyang Sword Sect's main sect, not entering the mountain gate directly.

The town was not large. The Cultivators walking on the street were generally at the Foundation Establishment Middle Stage or above, and occasionally the aura of a Golden Core Cultivator could be felt leaking out from some teahouse or apothecary.

He changed into a clean grey Daoist robe, wrapped the three bright moon sword in cloth and slung it on his back. Walking on the street, he was no different from the Loose Cultivators coming and going.

The main sect's mountain gate was thirty li north of the town.

He went on foot; he did not use his sword to fly, nor did he use an escape light.

Walking along the mountain path, the spiritual trees on both sides were much taller than those in the Southern Region. When the leaves rustled in the wind, it sounded like countless people whispering to each other.

At the end of the mountain path stood a blue-grey stone mountain gate, with four large characters carved on the lintel—Liuyang Sword Sect.

The brushstrokes were sharp, as if carved by blade and axe. They were identical to the handwriting on the mountain gate of the Southern Region branch, yet they carried a heavier sense of oppression.

He stood before the mountain gate for a moment.

The gate-guarding Disciple glanced at him, his gaze pausing on the sword-shaped outline of the cloth-wrapped object at his waist, then spoke: "Token."

Chen Xuan took the old iron token given by Master Liu Yun from his bosom and handed it over.

The gate-guarding Disciple took the iron token, examined it, then returned it and stepped aside to clear the path: "Founding Master Zangjian has given orders that those coming from the Southern Region branch may enter directly. Walk straight to the end of this path, turn left at the third courtyard, and an administrator will arrange your accommodation."

Chen Xuan nodded and stepped through the mountain gate.

He slowed his pace as he passed through the first courtyard, his gaze sweeping over the surrounding buildings.

The scale of the main sect was several times larger than the Southern Region branch, and the aura of the Spiritual Vein was as heavy as a sleeping mountain pressing beneath the ground.

As he passed through the second courtyard, the City Wall Earth Golden Essence in his Dantian stirred slightly—an extremely faint tremor, as if its shell had been tapped lightly by something.

He turned left at the third courtyard and stopped in front of an inconspicuous side room.

The administrator had arranged a single meditation room for him; it was not large, but the concentration of Spiritual Qi far exceeded any Immortal Cave in the Southern Region branch.

He closed the door, sat down on the meditation cushion, and did not rush to do anything. He simply sat quietly, closing his eyes to sense the state of the City Wall Earth Golden Essence in his Dantian.

The tremor had stopped.

But it had indeed occurred.

During those twelve days in the Southern Region, he had tried seven training grounds, and not once had there been even the slightest tremor.

Yet here, he had only walked through two courtyards, and the Golden Essence had moved on its own.

He opened his eyes and looked at the daylight filtering in through the meditation room window.

The Heavenly Dao rules of the Central Plains were indeed different from those in the Southern Region; at least the Golden Essence reacted here.

There was not much joy in his heart; instead, a colder chill rose within him—the Seal of Master Suodao was only effective in the Southern Region.

The heaven and earth of the Southern Region had been modified, but the Central Plains had not.

This should have made him breathe a sigh of relief, but instead, he became even more convinced of one thing: the problem did not lie in the Heavenly Dao rules themselves, but in something at a higher level.

He stood up, pushed open the door of the meditation room, and walked back along the path he had come.

Passing through the second courtyard, he stopped, standing beside a corridor pillar, his gaze falling on the hall building ahead that stood a head taller than the surrounding structures.

Hanging in front of the hall's entrance was a plaque with gold characters on a black background—Sword Storage Pavilion.

He stood by the pillar for a while when someone walked over from the side, their footsteps very light, making almost no sound on the bluestone slabs.

The person who arrived was a middle-aged man with a thin face, wearing the common grey robe of a main sect administrator, with a copper token hanging at his waist.

He stopped when he reached Chen Xuan's side and glanced at him sideways.

"From the Southern Region?"

"Yes."

"The Ancestral Master is waiting for you on the top floor of the Sword Storage Pavilion." After saying this, the administrator did not linger and walked straight ahead.

Chen Xuan stood in place for three breaths, then stepped toward the Sword Storage Pavilion.

As he entered, the spiritual light on the lintel flickered, as if verifying something, and then dimmed.

He walked up the stairs; they were made of wood, and they creaked slightly under his feet.

When he reached the sixth floor, his steps faltered.

The layout of this floor was completely different from the others.

There were no bookshelves, no meditation cushions, no desks.

There was only a massive stone stele standing in the center of the room, its surface smooth as a mirror, reflecting his own face.

At the base of the stele was a line of extremely small characters, the handwriting consistent in style with the inscriptions on the Southern Region branch mountain gate: "Locking the Dao—Sealing—Southern Region—Heavenly Dao—Thirty Thousand Years—Those who guard this land—Take heed—Be cautious—"

He stood before the stele, looking at that line of text, identifying it character by character in the dim light.

The edges of the carvings on the stele were rounded and smooth, as if polished by time countless times. A few strokes were already blurred, but the core meaning was clear and unmistakable.

Locking the Dao, sealing the Southern Region's Heavenly Dao, for thirty thousand years.

Those who guard this land, take heed, be cautious.

A burst of footsteps came from above, unhurried, like someone dragging a sword along the bluestone floor.

Founding Master Zangjian's figure appeared from the corner of the stairs. Unlike the phantom image Chen Xuan had seen in the Southern Region, this Physical Body was clearly more real. Even though his aura was restrained to the minimum, the pressure emanating from the edges of his robes still caused the wooden floor beneath Chen Xuan's feet to sink slightly.

"Finished reading?" Founding Master Zangjian walked to the side of the stele and casually pressed his hand against the smooth surface. "This stele is the only relic Master Suodao left in the Central Plains. It has stood here for thirty thousand years. Every time someone from the Southern Region branch comes to the main sect, they stand on this floor for a while. You are the third person who can understand the content of the inscription."

Chen Xuan's gaze shifted from the line of text to Founding Master Zangjian's face, his voice steady: "Ancestral Master, the Golden Essence Golden Core path in the Southern Region was sealed by Master Suodao. You have always known about this."

"I know." Founding Master Zangjian did not evade. "Not only do I know, but I am also the last person alive who witnessed that Seal being cast."

Chen Xuan's fingers tightened slightly.

"Thirty thousand years ago, when Master Suodao used his Nascent Soul Late Stage cultivation to Seal the Southern Region's Heavenly Dao, the main sect and the branch of the Liuyang Sword Sect had not yet separated. I was just a Foundation Establishment Disciple at the time, practicing sword techniques on a certain mountain peak at the border between the Central Plains and the Southern Region. I saw with my own eyes as he took a bone token from the Void Realm and pressed it into the core node of the Southern Region's earth veins. Since then, the Southern Region's Golden Essence response channel has been severed."

Founding Master Zangjian withdrew his hand from the stele, clasped it behind his back, and turned to look at Chen Xuan: "Do you know why he did this?"

"So that the Central Plains' orthodoxy would forever remain superior to the Southern Region?"

"That is only the superficial reason." Founding Master Zangjian shook his head. "The real reason is—the Heavenly Dao itself had a problem. Thirty thousand years ago, the Golden Essence Golden Core path to the Dao was collapsing across the entire world. Not just the Southern Region, but the Central Plains were also collapsing. Master Suodao sealed the Southern Region, not to lock away the Southern Region Cultivators, but to contain the scope of the collapse. With his full cultivation at the Nascent Soul Late Stage, he stripped away the Heavenly Dao rules of the Southern Region and froze them separately—this way, the Golden Essence channel in the Central Plains could still maintain operation, so it wouldn't collapse along with it."

Chen Xuan stood before the stele, listening to Founding Master Zangjian's voice echoing in the empty room. After listening, he was silent for a moment, then spoke: "Then can the Central Plains now—still attain the Golden Essence Golden Core?"

Founding Master Zangjian looked at him, his eyes holding a hint of something Chen Xuan could not name, like the calmness after long sedimentation.

"Go and try."

The sky had already darkened when he walked down from the Sword Storage Pavilion. He returned to the side meditation room, closed the door, sat down on the meditation cushion, and closed his eyes to draw out the City Wall Earth Golden Essence from his Dantian once more. This time, he set up the fishing Daoist field according to the method recorded in the diary of Ancient Golden Core Cultivator Zhao Wuji, using his Divine Sense to guide the Golden Essence aura upward, passing through the roof of the meditation room, through the moist and heavy Spiritual Qi layer of the Central Plains, and into that realm of Heavenly Dao rules high in the sky that was completely different from the Southern Region.

Once the aura probed out, it stopped. There was no response, no echo, no sinking, no rising. It was as if after pushing open a door, he discovered another door outside. He sat on the meditation cushion until the hour of the Rat, withdrew his Divine Sense, and opened his eyes. Outside the window, the moonlight was cold and clear; the stars in the night sky of the Central Plains were much brighter than in the Southern Region, but he had no heart to look at that starry sky.

The same result. Not even the faintest after-echo.

He sat in the moonlight, a confirmation rising in his heart, deeper and colder than in the Southern Region. The path to the Golden Essence Golden Core—it was not just the Southern Region that was sealed. The Central Plains also offered no response. Founding Master Zangjian said he was a person who had witnessed the Seal falling, but he did not say that the path was still open in the Central Plains.

He stood up, walked to the window, and watched the silhouette of the Liuyang Sword Sect's main sect undulating in the moonlight. The flying eaves of the halls were like the spines of giant beasts crouching in the darkness. He was that night traveler standing before the window, clutching two complete Golden Essences in his hand, yet not knowing where to go.

He did not tell anyone about this. The words Founding Master Zangjian said while standing beside the stele—"the Heavenly Dao itself had a problem"—were like a thorn stuck in his heart. If the Heavenly Dao itself had a problem, then the issue was not with the Seal, but in something deeper. Calculations at the level of Nascent Soul True Monarchs.

He closed the window and sat down again in the darkness. He did not light a lamp; he simply sat there, drawing out both Golden Essences from his Dantian simultaneously, letting them hover in the Void Realm before him. The dim yellow light of the City Wall Earth and the dark golden light of the Heavenly Fire intertwined, illuminating his lowered brows and eyes.

He was thinking of one thing, something he could only think through for himself. In three lifetimes of seeking the Dao, he could not drag anyone around him into this. The great power of Nascent Soul True Monarchs—he did not know what that meant, but knew it was not something those below the Golden Core could deal with. He withdrew the two Golden Essences and sat in the darkness with his eyes closed for a long time. Then he bowed his body on the meditation cushion, his hands pressed on his knees, his forehead against the cold ground.

The moonlight shone in from outside the window, landing on his arched back. The meditation room was so quiet that only his own breathing remained, like the last few faint sounds of water on the beach after the tide had receded.